


Services Rendered

by dagas isa (dagas_isa)



Category: Liar Game
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, F/M, Flogging, Pro-Domme, transgender character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-31
Updated: 2011-08-31
Packaged: 2017-10-23 07:02:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/247519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dagas_isa/pseuds/dagas%20isa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fukunaga and Miura meet again under different circumstances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Services Rendered

Fukunaga’s next appointment seems like a bad idea, but not a bad enough one to cancel.

The primary danger: that the two aspects of her life—the mundane world and the Liar Game—will for the first time, collide. Her friends, even those who would get a kick out of playing in something like the Liar Game, have no clue how Fukunaga spends an occasional weekend. Hitomi knows partially because Hitomi knows everything but mostly because Fukunaga reminds her roommate at every opportunity how grateful she should be that Fukunaga volunteered to take her place. All in all though, Fukunaga prefers to move through her daily life with the Liar Game fully compartmentalized, especially when it comes to her work. Business and the game should not mix.

So why did she accept this job? Personal curiosity, plain and simple.

When Miura Takayoshi walks into her space, all torn clothing (though he’s clean, and without any lingering smells, and for that Fukunaga thanks any deity that might be around to listen) and a mohawk, she wonders for a moment if he realizes that the Mistress Yuu he’s been corresponding with via electronic mail is actually Fukunaga Yuuji, one of his former opponents in the Liar Game. Then, he nods. He knows her identity, if not when he set up his appointment then sometime after the fact.

“I thought you were definitely an S person,” Fukunaga says by way of greeting.

Miura has the grace to look sheepish. “I am, mostly. But sometimes, M can be fun too.”

As long as Miura is on the bottom when he’s with her, Fukunaga thinks—she prefers being the one delivering the pain, always.

“Clothes off.” Fukunaga gives the command. He pays good money for her ownership over him, and she’s going to give him exactly his money’s worth in the time he’s allotted. She sits in the chair, one leg crossed over the other as she watches him disrobe in front of her. Unfortunate choices in fashion and hairstyle aside, Fukunaga admits that she can appreciate Miura’s build, particularly the play of his muscles beneath his bare shoulder blades, and just his tall, lanky figure in general. It’ll look good all cherry-red and covered with lashes. Work is work, but there’s nothing at all wrong with enjoying the task at hand. Her hand runs over the button of her favorite flogger—black and buttery suede, perfect for a warm-up no matter what type of pain Miura wants. She’ll enjoy her job.

“Would you prefer thuddy or stingy sensations?”

“A little of both.”

“How hard do you like it?”

“Whatever you've got, Mistress Yuu.” Miura says with stoicism, not bravado. “I’m tough. Just keep it on the shoulders and the arse.”

Fukunaga smiles at Miura, a predator playing with her food. “Understood. I’m not going to go easy on you.” She lets her long fingernails press into his bicep. “What with that whole thing at the bowling alley. Are you prepared for your atonement?” The game isn’t off limits. He could easily have found another domme who never had any idea of what he did.

"Yes, Mistress Yuu."

Fukunaga fastens him with padded restraints to the rack and leaves him to wait and contemplate cinderblock walls and the trellis of thick wood he rests upon while Fukunaga concerns herself with choosing the tools proper tools for this session. Her warm-up suede will serve her well, of course, but she needs others if she hopes to properly punish Miura for his betrayal. The bullwhip tempts her, but Miura specifically wants to be flogged. In that way, a paying client’s desires factor into the final choice. After some deliberation—enough to raise Miura’s sense of anticipation and dread—Fukunaga chooses a plain horsetail notorious for its scratchiness and an extravagant purple and black cat with tightly braided tails to finish.

Her tools chosen, Fukunaga walks back over to the rack where Miura blatantly works to remain stoic, even as he already sweats in fear of the pain she’ll inflict on him. “Nervous?” she asks. The handle of her warm-up whip poke his jaw, while Fukunaga's free hand pinches his side.

“Not at all, Mistress Yuu.”

Fukunaga can hear the choke in his voice. “Liar,” she whispers as she steps back and begins the real work.

\--

“So, tell me,” Fukunaga says as she hands Miura a bottle of water afterwards, “why are you really here? It’s the Liar Game, right?”

Miura rests in the corner, wearing nothing but the tight, dingy jeans he walked in with and a towel wrapped around his shoulders, hiding the beautiful cuts and welts she left on his body. His expression is a little sheepish, like a little boy who just got caught staring at something he shouldn’t. “I just wanted to ask you a favor.”

Fukunaga can guess. “Go ahead.”

“When the next round starts, you’ll help Nao with her mission, right? You know, with saving everyone. I can’t really help her any more, but I don’t want to just leave her hanging either.”

With a sip of her own water bottle, Fukunaga takes a seat and crosses her legs. Why did she have a feeling that was the issue? Miura's body shows the cuts and marks of her flogger as price for his earnesty; a tribute Fukunaga appreciates. Yet, she can’t remain swayed by his noble intentions, and she deliberately avoids answering his question. “I’ll do what needs done. Is that the reason you made an appointment with me?”

Miura scratches the back of his head. “A little bit…but I wouldn’t have found you if I hadn’t been looking.” The rest of his clothes go on in succession—T-shirt, socks, jacket. His boots are at the studio door. Finally, he hands her a sealed envelope—his payment for services rendered. “It can’t be often, but we should do this again sometime.”

“I look forward to it.” Fukunaga waits until Miura leaves and fades away into the city night before she retreats into her studio and opens the envelope. Her agreed upon fee is there in the form of a check plus half-the fee again in cash. She lets out a low whistle, and realizes she definitely will be.

Bad idea to let work and the game mix? Hardly. Fukunaga places the check somewhere safe and then cleans the studio and prepares for her next client.


End file.
